Forgotten
by Nymph Du Pave
Summary: Hint of CLex Slash: ClarkSuperman's POV. Future where Lex and Clark have gone separate ways, and Gotham has become too much for the Bat. There are implications between Lex and Clark, but it's not a 'total slash' story. Please R&R, thanks! :)
1. Prologue

**I have finished _Indepentdent Love Song_. It is NC-17. I am looking for places to post it as I can obviously not do so here. **

I'll probably be posting other places but for now it is at my Livejournal.   


Please, email me and tell me what you think if you can't leave a comment there. 

Once again, thank you for your patience and a BIG thanks to PepperJackCandy and Raijahn.   


BIG OLE NOTE: So my computer crashed, right? Finally. Luckily, a friend of mine has allowed me the use of his laptop for a while and I had something to write on. Still, I was freaking out, crying, thinking that I had lost everything and wasn't I stupid, hah, the backups were ON THE COMPUTER. Please, spare me the 'you are SUCH a dumbass' comments. Still going there everyday with myself, lol. 

So, anyway, my boyfriend is really cool about it. Pulls out the harddrives, saves all my work and BAM, it's all where I need it. And I'm going through my stuff, making sure it's all there. And I find this. I think my exact words were "uhhh, but- I... didn't I post- uh... whoa." 

I _DIDN'T_ post this. And I loved writing this. Even have stuff planned for more because I THOUGHT that I HAD posted this. 

Live and learn. 

So here it is. One of quite a few things I found in my forgotten files, the aptly named (I swear I named this BEFORE everything):   
  
  
TITLE: Forgotten   
AUTHOR: Nymph Du Pave   
FANDOM: Smallville Future Fic/Batman   
RATING: PG-13   
SUMMARY: Clark/Superman's POV. Future where Lex and Clark have gone separate ways, and Gotham has become too much for the Bat. (**There are some implications of slash in this story**, between Lex and Clark, but it's not technically a 'slash' story. Feelings and past experiences are mentioned.)   
DISCLAIMER: DC Comics for Bruce/Batman, Gotham, and the Joker. The WB, DC Comics, MillarGoughInk, Tolin, Robbins, and Davola [along with whomever else] own Smallville. I am merely borrowing characters here to use in my own evil ways and will try to return them as mentally cognizant and stable as when I took them [with the exception of the incredibly handsome and elegant Michael Rosenbaum of whom I might never let go ;)], but I can't make any promises. The Muse controls these fingers.   
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story is very close to my heart. It's been taking away all of the frustration and letting me slip into another world; something that not all of my writing can afford to let me do. It's the first in a series, though the next [as of yet] has no name, and neither does the series. It's been one of the most fun of my projects and one of the few future fics I've done.   
FEEDBACK: Please give me my drugs, my crack, my co-ca-eeeene.   
AUTHOR'S EMAIL: nymph_du_pave@hotmail.com   


* * *

  
**Forgotten**   
**by Nymph Du Pave**

Prologue 

_…there's a place so dark you can't see the end_   
_[skies cock back] and shock that which can't defend_   
_the rain then sends dripping/an acidic question_   
_forcefully, the power of suggestion_   
_then with the eyes tightly shut/looking through the rust and rot_   
_and dust/a spot of light floods the floor_   
_and pours over the rusted world of pretend_   
_the eyes ease open and it's dark again…_

Thunder, he'd decided, was an almost purely Gotham sound. It fit Metropolis, sort of like a light rain fit Smallville springs. Sporadic, rare and short-lived. But thunder must have originated in the home of the Batman. 

Clark wasn't sure it really ever stopped raining in Gotham. Maybe the harsh realities you passed by on the street- the drug dealers, the prostitutes and the homeless folks and murder scenes- and the constant violence took your eyes away from the rain. Even if it physically stopped, the rain was still there. In the souls of Gothamites, and the smiles that never quite reached their eyes. Like the sun that expended it's energy glinting on the metal and glass of the tall, dark buildings, but never bothered to shine on the streets, the people below. 

It was the first place that Clark had seen that didn't differentiate rich from poor, black from white. The violence, hatred and fear that was Gotham embodied had no prejudice. It met everyone with the same steel knife, twisted itself into all of their lives and left horrible, unhealed wounds. 

Lois had warned him, told him condescendingly that he was too sweet, too gentle for that particular city. He was becoming sick of her treatment of Clark Kent, seeing the fact that she cherished what she saw as the paragon that was Superman. He knew too much about the perfection of love from afar. Dreaming of the ones that were off limits was easy. That way you could tell yourself that you didn't have to try with anyone else, but instead wait for the one you really loved to come to you. 

He'd grown out of that once he moved away from Lana, but more importantly, once he moved away from Lex. 

_The most difficult thing that a person can do_, he thought absently, _is let the ones that will never be, go_. 

The lightning split the sky into three, illuminating Bruce beside him. It disturbed Clark that the city would bring him back to thoughts of Lex. But then, everything did eventually. 

"You can see just by flying overhead why I've asked you to come." 

Clark nodded and wondered if Bruce's suit came with a voice alteration unit or if the deeper tone was just something that came naturally once the billionaire was clad in the heavy leather. He certainly had no reason to disguise his voice from Clark. 

_It's very symbolic_, he thought. The darker half of Bruce Wayne. The alter ego. 

Bruce sighed and turned to Clark. "I can't do this alone. It's my home, they're my people and I just can't do it." 

Clark wasn't shocked at the revelation itself but instead at the fact that it was issued. Wayne was never one to admit defeat, never one to ask a favor or express that something couldn't be done by himself. His reputations as both Batman and Bruce Wayne preceded him. Then again, Clark realized with shock, Superman wasn't just anyone to Bruce. He was another in the fight for the safety of the helpless. 

"What do you need?" Clark asked, ready to give Bruce, a man he'd only met four days ago, anything he needed.   
  
  
  
  
  


**To be continued...**


	2. Chapter One

TITLE: Forgotten   
AUTHOR: Nymph Du Pave   
RATING: PG-13   
AUTHOR'S EMAIL: nymph_du_pave@hotmail.com   


* * *

  
**Forgotten**   
**by Nymph Du Pave**

Chapter One   
_One week earlier…_

"This isn't the right story, this isn't the angle Perry asked for." 

Clark sighed and pushed the plastic rims back up his nose. He wondered what on Earth had convinced him to choose the thick black rims, instead of something more fitting to his face. "I didn't see it Perry's way." 

"Okay, so multi-billionaire Lex Luthor donates several million dollars to a non-profit Astrology foundation-" 

"Astronomy." 

"Right, right. And you find a devious angle to even that? Clark, I can't stand the man, and even I see this as an actual honest donation." 

"Nothing is honest with Luthor," he said, managing to keep most of the bitterness out of his voice. He sounded more like a pissed off reporter than a let down and betrayed friend. 

"And who the hell is your source?" 

He swallowed. He'd been waiting for that one. "Superman," he told her _hating_ that name. He'd been so thrilled and flattered when she'd first called him that, her in his arms, fingers caressing the tight blue material that nothing could destroy. That was when he thought maybe she'd realize that he and Clark were the same. When he thought that true love was more than a myth. Before he'd recognized her crush as completely superficial. 

The way she discussed 'Superman' with Clark and around the office… It had changed his mind about her. 

He ignored the slight change in her disposition. "Why don't you quote him?" 

"Because he asked to remain anonymous." 

She pulled her hair back into a ponytail and stood, tying it. "You know that this article is not going to fly with Perry, even if one of your sources is- Superman." 

"Then he can get someone else to write the 'Lex Luthor is doing something saintly, could it be a turn around?' bullshit. Cause I'm not doing it." 

"Is this retribution for Perry giving you such a lame story to work with in the first place?" 

"Of course not." 

Her eyes narrowed and for a moment, standing facing him so that he couldn't see just how truly and awfully skinny she was, her beauty caught him by surprise. Maybe if Lois hadn't grown up the way she had, and she wasn't so much of a bitch ninety-five percent of the time, then they could have had something. Maybe she would have liked Clark more than she did now, and ignored Superman as anything but a journalistic intrigue. 

He sighed. She believed him to be too innocent for her, and in ways he wanted nothing more than to never know, she was. He'd held her, rocked her to a drunken slumber as Superman, knew some of the terrible things that her father had done. Knew that her mother was the silent criminal, keeping vigil for the monster that only shed his human skin around his daughter. 

He was too innocent for her, but that didn't stop him from trying to help make things better. 

"I'm not doing it," he repeated. 

"You really think that this is a cover for something." 

He sat up in his chair and typed in his search on his laptop. "Superman was there, Lois. He saw Lex get out of the limo and followed him in with his X-ray vision. He heard Lex and Dr. Curfman discussing something about where the money should really go. What should really happen with it." 

"But he didn't hear just what?" 

"He was straining to hear through the windows because of the lead in the building. It was throwing me off." 

"You mean the lead?" 

"Yeah." 

"Then it was throwing him off." 

"What?" 

"Him. You said 'me'." 

His heart lurched. He slipped up a little too often around Lois. "Right." 

He hoped she'd leave him to his work soon. He was mostly finished with his search on Dr. Brian Curfman but there were a few more details he needed to procure. 

"KENT!" Perry's usually benevolent voice was beyond exasperated. "Get in here! Now!" 

The slamming of his door was followed by hoots and hollers from the printing room staff and Jimmy walked by him. "Way to go, Clark. I haven't heard him that pissed off since Lois received the restraining order from Senator Powel." 

"That was not my fault, Jimmy! He's over paranoid." 

"Finding you in his bedroom closet after throwing you out of his office, penthouse and limo is being overly paranoid?" Clark got up from his desk and headed towards the door emblazoned 'Editor in Chief' and swallowed hard. There were times when he really, _really_ hated that damn door. 

"Why don't you ever haunt around me like that, Lois?" Jimmy asked and sat down on the corner of her desk. 

"Because your seventeen. I have a restraining order _and_ be considered a pedophile." 

"Is that the only reason? 'Cause I turn eighteen in three months." 

Clark opened Perry's door and entered, only to be assaulted at once. 

"I give you a simple job, Kent. One. Simple. Job. One that I thought even you couldn't screw up. But no, I was wrong. I give _anything_ to you or Lane that has to do even remotely with Lex Luthor, or LexCorp or any of the above and you find a way to-" 

"Superman is my source," he blurted out. 

Perry nodded. "That what I thought. He's always your source. He seems to have it in for Luthor, too." 

"This paper's purpose is to tell the truth." 

"Yes, but-" 

"Superman is fighting for a safer world. To protect that truth." 

"Clark, I-" 

"Are you saying that Superman has ulterior motives when it comes to Luthor? Are you saying he's lying?" 

If there was anything that Clark believed in, it was protecting the innocent. It was all he really had left. The moment that he'd discovered that he had to protect them from Lex, had been a life-altering, heart-obliterating one. But he'd never once lied or looked for the evil in Lex. It just kept showing up, chipping away more and more of the farmboy inside.__

_I want to see the good in him. I want that more than anything. Even if I can't have him, I want him to be a good person. Like the man he was struggling to be back in Smallville._

Perry had lost all of his steam and sat down. "Damn it, Clark." 

"I know." 

"I just wanted something… I don't know. Just go." 

"That article?" 

"Will be printed in tomorrow morning's paper. Front page."   
  
  
  
  
  
  


**To be continued...**


	3. Chapter Two

Chapter Two 

Clark hovered in the air, listening for signs of distress. He'd just handed an attempted rapist over to the police- forcing the man's confession at the same time- stopped two bar fights and, he smirked to himself, helped a little, blue-haired old lady, cross the street. 

Tonight was a pretty slow night. There were no major bank robberies, no hideouts to burst into and break up the meetings of criminal minds. He had to be careful. The public liked him, loved him really and though he was never worried about his ego, he was worried about exceeding the laws or breaking the constitution. 

With every criminal he'd ever caught, he attended the trials or kept up with them through Clark Kent. He was there to protect the innocent from these people, but he couldn't let things become so black and white. He had to make sure that even the criminals got fair and even treatment. After all, it wasn't him but the people themselves, 'a dozen or so peers', that decided the truth and the punishment. 

And that was also something he was trying to protect. 

He sighed wishing things _were_ more black and white. More easy to read. More _Dick Tracy_. The real world was getting harder and harder to take. 

Clark stretched out and flew a little higher, not wanting to go too far. His hearing was impeccable but even he couldn't hear Metropolis while in space. He stopped level with the International Headquarters of LexCorp and thought briefly about paying Lex a little invisible visit. 

Really he'd stopped those, but tonight he felt especially accomplished and when it was a slow night he often got to thinking. Thinking led to sorrow which led to anger and depression which eventually led to loneliness. He knew the route and decided why not just go ahead and check up on Lex before the emotions had time to set in. 

He flew over the LexCorp building and saw that the curtains were, as usual, closed. He avoided the video camera on the side with not as much chagrin as when it had been first placed there. 

When he had first discovered Lex was partaking in more than a few criminal endeavors, he'd flown up and watched Lex in his sleep for hours. Days went by and he came back to this spot, leaving whenever needed to perform some heroic feat for justice, but always finding himself back here, wondering what had happened to his best friend. The lithe body would lie, sometimes tossing and turning, sometimes still, but never peaceful. And the familiar face would be a study in tension, bleached white in the pale moonlight. 

One night he'd been watching when the bank alarm went off. He'd rushed to the site, found and disposed of the problem- a many time offender who'd just failed to pull off his biggest heist and would now be spending a long time in Metropolis State Penitentiary on and island off the coast- then headed back to the LexCorp penthouse. 

He flew up without thinking to check and see if Lex was awake. He'd gotten so use to the habit of seeing him sleep that it hadn't occurred to him that Lex could actually wake up. 

Clark, feeling more lonely than ever that night- the other night he'd realized that what Lois felt for Superman was _super_ficial- had rushed back insanely fast, even for him. He wanted to be with Lex, even if he wasn't physically with him. Those naive and heartrending farmboy feelings had never left him, had never gone away. He wasn't sure that anything Lex did could force those feelings away. 

So he'd reached LexCorp at the seventeenth floor level and flew up to it's sixty-third, watching the city instead of the building. Sometimes it was so beautiful he just wanted keep flying, until it all went away. But then he'd only find himself immersed in stars. He just couldn't take that beauty. 

Not when everything he'd once found beautiful turned against innocents and him. 

He'd stopped at Lex's bedroom- windows covering the length of the room- still looking over the city when he heard a soft thud. He whipped around to find Lex standing directly behind him, lights on, phone dropped to the floor, hand still in the position to be holding it. 

Lex's mouth was parted in shock and the two of them were frozen in the moment. Clark took in Lex's elegance, the red satin pajamas that fit with the black satin sheets, and the gorgeous face that hadn't seemed to age since he was twenty-one. 

His mind shot possibilities at him. 

_Open the door, Lex. It's Clark. It's me behind the suit. I love you, I've always loved you. Please take me in your room, in your heart, in your arms. Be a good man again, Lex. I'll do anything for that._

He had so many things to ask Lex, things like 'did you once feel the same?' and 'is it all my fault that you're the man you are now?'. He knew that his not telling Lex the truth when they were younger, was affecting them both now. 

Then Lex blinked and he was gone. It was his out, his way of escape. It was what he needed. 

The next night he was wary to go to Lex's again but figured when he'd come up to the building, he'd been facing the city, not Lex, so the man couldn't possibly know. 

But, whether he knew or not, paranoia was any Luthor's true curse. There were curtains and a camera with a motion censor. He'd not known about the motion censor the first time and had set it off. He heard the shrill alarm and took off, not coming back for another week. When he finally did return, he used his laser vision to corrupt the motion censor without breaking it or turning it off. Then he could still watch Lex through the curtains because only a handful of people knew of his X-Ray vision and they were all people he could trust. 

He'd lost interest in watching Lex sleep with the curtains in the way. There was something there that reminded him of lost innocence and the symbolism of Lex pulling the curtain over Clark's eyes -- even though Clark knew what was going on -- was too much to take.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
****

**To be continued...**


	4. Chapter Three

Chapter Three 

He avoided the camera as usual and peered in. 

There was no Lex. 

This was rare unless Lex had decided to take a trip, and Clark was trying to remember if he'd knew anything or heard anything to the contrary when there was an ear-piercing scream coming from below. He'd automatically turned his hearing up when he'd decided to visit Lex and he was almost sorry he had. 

He started flying in the direction when a second and then third followed. He wondered just what the hell was happening to the person that would allow them to scream that loud. Usually muggers and rapists forced their victims into silence, and murderers were a lot faster. 

He arrived at American Metropolis Storage, an old goods storage warehouse that was closed for the night when a forth scream started. 

He dropped to the ground and, seeing as how the windows were concentrically covered with lead shutters and some of the internal structure was done with lead, he couldn't see much of anything. The lead was the cork to his champagne, the one non-malignant thing that could deflect his powers. He couldn't bend it, melt it… or see through it. 

Through the bricks he could see very little as the lead was built in a grid-like structure within the building, and had about a foot's diameter effect per each railing. 

_People_, he thought. He could see them, fuzzy as they were. Men in suits never fit in a building filled with boxes and dust and rats. 

By the start of the fifth scream he'd decided enough was enough and burst through the door. Not the ideal entrance but he needed to help the woman right away. 

He found four men dressed in suits, packing, with wires in their ears. 

There was a woman sitting in a chair with headphones on and a bottle of water in her hand, screaming her lungs out. 

One of the men spotted Superman's entrance and spoke into his cuff. "Stop." 

The woman jolted as if surprised to hear the voice through her headset, but stopped immediately. She opened her eyes and looked directly at Superman, smiling shyly. "Sorry. It wasn't my idea." Her southern accent and long blonde hair with silver-white stripes tipped Clark off to her identity. 

Lex's newest right-hand woman. Not one he chose to sleep with -- he never slept with the ones that were anchored to his side -- but the one that replaced the brunette that had betrayed him and suddenly disappeared. 

Clark's gut tightened from both the memory of the woman's disappearance and the impossibility of the current situation. "What the hell's going on here?" 

The blonde stood up, flattening her palms against her tight white running tee down the front of her charcoal gray sweatpants. "Mr. Luthor wants to see you. He's beyond miffed at you." 

Clark frowned, utterly bemused at the situation. "Well, I'll be sure to care in the next lifetime. The one where he's an honest businessman and human being." 

"Honest?" came a cool, collected voice, a familiar voice. Clark got the chills, as he always did when meeting people he knew in real life -- as opposed to the Superman business -- but even more so because Lex was speaking to him. He hadn't done that in almost a year, and even then Lex was speaking to Superman again. Thanking him on national television for the great job he'd done protecting the city, and various parts of the world. 

Clark cleared his throat. He was afraid that someone might finally recognize him, and if that someone was anyone it would be Lex. Years spent together in cornfields and at the mansion should assure that. Sometimes he hoped that Lex would, but this was not one of those times. 

Clark steeled himself and turned around. He was sure he'd never be ready to face the sight of Lex Luthor. Not if he expected to have no reaction to the man's looks. 

White satin shirt and ironed, creased black sacks. Gold silk tie. He'd ceased wearing purple a lifetime ago. 

"Yes, Mr. Luthor. Honest. As in having integrity." 

Lex nodded and Clark saw how absolutely infuriated the man actually was. He was loosing his cool, his hands were trembling just a bit, shaking the paper held tightly inside and his heart-rate was almost off the scale. At the same time Clark was worried about his health, he realized that there was only one thing that could possibly piss Lex off to lividness. 

He knows. He knows it's me. 

"Honest," Lex stopped roughly seven feet in front of him. "As in 'not telling a lie'… Right?" 

_Oh, God. Please don't hate me, Lex. I couldn't tell you. I just… I couldn't…_

"RIGHT?!" Lex shouted and startled everyone in the room including Clark and Lex's new pretty little lackey. 

Clark had never seen Lex this angry. 

Lex could tell he wasn't getting an answer from Superman and he breathed in and out, trying to calm himself. 

Clark took the opportunity. "Listen, I can explain, Lex." 

Lex laughed, a little hysterically. "Lex? LEX? We're one a first name basis now?" 

Clark frowned. "Well, I-" 

"You're a bastard 'Superman'." He spit out the word like it was poisoning his mouth. "A lying sack of vindictive shit." 

_Vindictive?_

"I actually believed you upheld those morals you and your fans are always spouting about. But I guess not, you spiteful fuck." 

Clark was terribly confused. So this wasn't about him being Clark Kent/Superman? This was about… About… 

"What exactly are you referring to?" 

"This," Lex snarled and threw the paper at him. Clark caught it and looked. In the corner was his weekly column and for a moment he thought that maybe Lex really did know. 

"Front page, hero." 

Clark tried not to breathe an obvious sigh of relief and opened it to the front page. 

**LUTHOR'S ASTRONOMY DONATION:**   
**TERMS INCLUDED**   
**SW Clark Kent**

"What the fuck is that?" 

Clark looked at him blankly. "What makes you think I know?" 

Lex looked down at his feet and laughed softly, dangerously. "Don't think I don't know _you're_ Clark Kent's source." 

His heart sped up at the mention of his name. His mind flashed back sadly to the days of their friendship. Skating, sledding, horseback riding, camping out under the stars. Lex doing everything in his power to make Clark happy, and Clark wishing he could do the same. So many not-so-innocent touches and pats and glances. 

God, what he wouldn't do to bring it all back. To take the chance he'd so feared. Having Lex say no, having Lex disgusted at him was nothing like never knowing what could have been. 

_Should have been._

"Are you going to deny it?" 

Clark thought for a moment. "No. I'm the source." 

Lex's face grew outraged and he lunged after Superman. Clark flew up in the air, knowing that if he caught Lex, touched Lex after all these years, he would want to hold him. He would tell the man everything. 

That could not happen. 

Lex's red face looked up at him. 

_Jesus, he's mad!_

"Get down here and fight me, you tights-wearing pansy!" 

He'd never heard a less than scarring insult come from Lex. 

_He must be unable to think. _That had to be a first. 

"GET DOWN HERE!" 

Though the deep voice sent a chill down his back, Clark crossed his arms, remaining visibly nonchalant. "I'd pulverize you, Le- Luthor." 

There was a moment of disgusted silence. "You're a liar, Superman." The four men in suits surrounded an oblivious Lex and his blonde looked on intrigued. 

Clark really didn't like her. 

"I heard what I heard." 

"Oh, really?" Lex snapped sarcastically. "And what was that? _Exactly_." 

"You were telling Dr. Curfman where the money should go and what it should be used for." 

"And that was?" 

Clark stiffened. "I didn't hear that part." 

Lex nodded. "So you automatically assume that it's for evil, right? That I haven't got a decent bone in my body?" 

Lex snapped his finger and one of the men handed him a manila folder. 

"This is for the record, Superman." 

Clark hesitated, then flew down, feet lightly touching the ground. He took the manila folder, knowing that a few light years away, he would have found someway to touch Lex, even from that distance. 

"And I want this given to the Daily Planet tomorrow, do you understand? I want _you_ to take the heat for it, _not_ Clark Kent." 

Lex stepped closer and Clark stepped back on instinct. He'd never been the center of Lex's hate before and wished for the twentieth time that he wore a mask. He felt so naked and vulnerable and, well, like the farmboy he once was. Why couldn't anyone tell it was him? 

"And you had better get your facts straight before informing Clark about my activities. I don't need another reason for him to hate me," Lex said and Clark could have sworn his voice cracked. There was a sadness, expertly hidden to anyone but Clark. "He's got plenty." 

_I could never hate you, Lex. Just worry for you._

But he had to play the part. Clark swallowed. "What do you care?" 

There was a flash of something in Lex's eyes and his mouth opened. 

"Kent's a reporter. Lex doesn't want the public thinking he's all bad, you moron." 

Lex shut his mouth, saved from explanation and Clark now hated that damned blonde woman with a vengeance.   
  
  
  
  
  
  


**To be continued...**


	5. Chapter Four

Chapter Four 

Clark stretched out on his sofa, rubbing his temples. He was tired and he had a headache. 

Superman had come early in the morning and dropped off the manila folder to Perry White along with a personal apology to be printed in the next edition of the Planet- if Perry would have it- insisting that he take the blame and not Clark. Perry couldn't yell at Superman and he'd promised he wouldn't blame Clark. So instead Clark just received glares all day and another shitty, low caliber assignment. Clark knew it was going to be a long time before Perry trusted him to use Superman as a source. Anonymous or not. 

He popped another grape into his mouth and flipped channels on the television, landing on Nick at Night. 'Get Smart'. He loved that show, but somehow just… He didn't feel in the mood. 

He lay there staring at the ceiling with the TV in the background. Lex felt… 

What? Lex didn't want Clark to hate him. He probably thought that Clark did, probably didn't blame Clark for that hate. Probably even thought it was right. But Clark didn't hate him. There was a lot of anger at Lex for wasting a good chance at life, bitterness for what their lives had become and sorrow for the friend he missed. 

He contemplated going to Lex, telling him everything, or at least starting with a 'Hey. How are you?' 

Clark sighed and buried his head in his pillow. This was going to be difficult. Ten years ago they'd met and become the best of friends almost instantly. His feelings for Lex had grown and grown to the point where he felt like bursting through the mansion doors and proclaiming his love for the older man. The kind of love that wanted hearts and souls and bodies entwined. 

He'd fallen in love, true, heart-stopping, mind-bending love, for the first and only time in his life. Until he could let go of Lex, he'd never find someone to settle down with. But he knew he'd never get over Lex. There was no way in hell someone recovered from that. 

Too bad he'd never taken the chance. 

He frowned to himself, trying his best to figure out where it had all gone wrong. 

+_+_+_+ 

Clark had graduated at eighteen, and Lex wanted to give him a graduation present. They'd been to Metropolis, New York and LA, so he couldn't go to any of those. Clark had suggested Gotham and received a look from Lex that stated quite clearly just how ridiculous _that_ idea was. 

So Lex suggested the Cayman islands. Clark, of course, refused. At least until Lex agreed to go with him. 

There had been more sexual tension on that trip than any before. They'd spent a lot of their time on the beach, Clark and Lex both in the water and in the sun. Clark thought it was an exaggeration when Lex had told him that the sun didn't effect his skin at all, but the fact that Lex neither tanned nor burned was all the proof Clark needed. 

His own skin had browned nicely and he'd felt Lex's eyes on him constantly. That was of course, when he wasn't goggling at Lex's arms, legs, chest and face himself. 

The first night there the hotel had made an error. They'd booked Luthor into a one bed suite. Lex had flushed and began seriously reaming the clerk. That was when Clark decided that Lex hadn't actually done this on purpose, like he'd originally thought. Get a one bed suite by 'accident', then try and hook up. 

Clark took the older boy aside. He'd talked Lex into your basic cliché situation: 'we're both tired (lie) why don't we use it for just the one night (until we make love and decide to keep it out of 'generosity') and then we can trade (if you must, how about the honeymoon suite?)'. 

So they'd taken the one bed hotel room with plans to switch in the morning. After a lot of lying awake pretending to be asleep and hearing Lex do the same beside him (it had taken twenty minutes to innocently convince Lex to get into bed with him instead of sleeping on the floor) he decided to push things ahead a little. Moaning, he turned around and wrapped his arm tightly around Lex. There was a gasp and a moan, then fingers trying almost frantically to unlatch Clark's arm. He let it happen, turned back around and tried not to burst into girly tears. 

Lex didn't want him? 

In the morning, after very little sleep, he'd decided that Lex just didn't want to take advantage of him. They switched rooms, took showers (Lex took his first and then Clark used his to release the sexual tension that a wet, towel-clad Lex Luthor had brought on) and then headed out. 

The rest of the three days they were there, the looks got heavier, the hands lingered longer, and Clark's body got harder. He'd been hoping and praying that Lex would make a move, any move, but it never happened. 

The last night they were there, they'd gotten stoned-drunk, Clark drinking more than twice as much as Lex. Lex had passed out and Clark had carried him to their hotel room, wobbling and repeatedly trying his keys at the wrong doors. 

After about forty minutes he got to their room, carried Lex across the threshold like drunken newlyweds and put him gently down in the bed. He stripped him down to his undershirt and boxers, trying to ignore his own raging hard on until Lex had opened his eyes and smiled sweetly at Clark.   


That was a smile that he'd dreamed of getting from Lex, specifically after waking up in each others arms. So he'd bent down and kissed Lex. Alcohol, heat and Lex swirled within his mouth and he'd slipped into the double with Lex. Hands disposed of clothes and then found hardened appendages. As Lex stroked the length of him, he'd realized that, honestly, this was not how he wanted it to happen. 

Pissed at himself for taking advantage of Lex, he'd left the room and stayed outside, in the hall. He'd watched with his vision and listened with his hearing as Lex jerked himself off. There was no name whispered on frantic lips, just a sad mewling sound until Lex finally fell asleep. 

Clark went into the bathroom, disposed of his own problem coldly and mechanically, then got into bed. 

The plane ride home was sad. Lex had forgotten, didn't actually even know what had happened between them, and Clark thought maybe that was best. He didn't want the older boy to remember what Clark had done, taking advantage of a lonely and drunk human being. 

Months later Clark and Chloe, Pete and Lana all went to college. Pete and Lana both went to Yale and, to the surprise of everyone, started dating. They eventually got engaged, married and then had their first little Ross. 

Clark and Chloe both went to Metropolis U, but then Chloe tried her best to get transferred to New York, as the Daily Bugle was offering her everything she'd ever wanted. She eventually became the Lois Lane of the Bugle, and Spiderman became her focus. 

That left Clark alone to make new friends, graduate and take the job as reporter for the Daily Planet. 

There had been Lex still for a while. Except Lex's visits were becoming fewer and fewer until one day, he just didn't show up. That day, three days after they'd discussed what Clark planned to do with his life, had stretched on for four years. Four agonizing years with no Lex at his side, no Lex to talk to, no Lex to touch. 

And Clark still had no clue why. 

+_+_+_+_+ 

Clark stood, staring off the tiny balcony of his dingy, little apartment. 

There had to be a reason, someone's fault for this, but he couldn't find it. 

It's mine. I let him go. I let him disappear. 

He'd go to Lex then, fly to the man's window not in Superman's clothes, but as a flying Clark Kent and demand to be let in. He'd ask why Lex had abandoned him. He'd try his very best to make things better. He'd do everything within his pow- 

A light in the sky caught his eye and for a moment he thought he was seeing things. But it was there. Like the rumored bat signal only… It had his symbol on it. 

What the hell? 

The big 'S' was moving slowly and silently across the sky. Was it bait? A trap from some evil-doer? Or was it the mayor of Metropolis trying to get Superman for some secret emergency? 

Clark changed into his Superman clothes and took off towards the beacon, finding it originating from the top of the Daily Planet. 

He dropped down just as the light switched off with an incredibly heavy sound. He watched as Batman came from around the back of it and was more than awed. Batman was rumored to be human, and anyone that could accomplish what he did with only human abilities deserved to be revered. 

"Superman." 

Clark nodded. "Yes." 

"I didn't know how else to locate you." 

Made sense. "I understand. What are you doing in Metropolis?" 

Hesitation. "I need your help." 

Clark was confused. Batman had come to Metropolis for his help? "With?" 

"My city. I'll- I'll understand if you turn me down, but I had to try." 

Clark wasn't about to turn him down without knowing the full problem. "I have no intention of not helping someone in need, specifically someone who makes it their duty to rid the world of evil." 

Really, he figured it must be the suit that made him sound so stiff and proper and damned goody-two-shoes. Sometimes he hated it. 

Batman nodded. "I make it a point to never trust anyone, so this is going to be hard for me. I'll need to trust you completely, and you me." He paused. "There's only one way I can think to ensure that." 

"What's that?" 

Batman lifted his hands and pulled up and back the black leather mask covering his face. "I'm Bruce Wayne." 

Clark gasped, dumbfounded. It was indeed Gotham's multi-billionaire. 

_What the hell?_

Bruce adjusted the mask back in place then took a deep breath. "Who are you?"   
  
  
  
  
  
  


**To be continued...**


	6. Chapter Five

Chapter Five 

"What? Are you nuts? You'll never survive there!" 

Clark straightened up and looked past Lois to Jimmy who was sitting on the couch, watching him getting yelled at. 

"Toss me the aftershave, Jimmy." 

Jimmy picked it up from the couch and threw it to him. Lois shot him a lethal glare. 

"What?!" Jimmy asked 

"We're here to talk him out of going, Olson, not help him pack!" 

"It won't matter, Lois," Clark supplied. "I'm going to Gotham and you're not talking me out of it." 

"Clark, you're too naive for that place. I'm surprised you made it out of your one-horse town alive. You're too sweet, to gentle and far too innocent to go there." 

He ignored her. "I think I'll be fine." 

"Why's that? Because you're friends with Superman?" 

Close enough. 

He walked into the bathroom. 

"You know he can't save your ass if your going to Gotham." 

Why? Because he was supposed to still be here. 

That was something that had caused him a lot of controversy. Batman needed his help, but he couldn't just abandon Metropolis, right? Luckily Clark was staying for two to three weeks [had vacation time and sick time saved up] but Superman would be working both cities on and off. He still wouldn't be able to help his city as much as he'd like, but there were areas in Gotham that needed to be cleaned out. He couldn't ignore a request for his help, if it meant saving the lives of innocents. 

"You're gonna get robbed, Clark," started Jimmy softly, and Clark could tell this wasn't just Lois's influence. Jimmy was naturally worried. "Mugged and shot and you're going to lie on the street, bleeding into the gutter, with no one bothering to help you, wondering why of all the places, you went to Gotham. 

Descriptive. "I'm staying with Bruce Wayne. I think I can manage." 

There was dead silence as he finished packing the rest of his hygiene products, then walked out into the living room. He saw Jimmy open-mouthed and gaping, and Lois staring shrewdly at him. 

"This an acquaintance from your childhood?" 

Just what he needed. More jealousy about his contacts. "Lois-" 

"No, really, Clark. You've got the mayor, three senators, Superman, Lex Luthor, and now Bruce Wayne. Not to mention so many little contacts, and that Sullivan chick from New York." 

"I don't have ti-" 

"So did you meet Wayne when you were milking cows on the prairie? Was he a friend of the childhood Lex Luthor you knew so well?" 

Clark rolled his eyes. He knew that Lois was angry because she figured that he'd just happened into reporting. She believed herself born for it, destined for it. It was the only thing she'd ever wanted to do, the only that that had ever turned her on the way it did and now, her partner the farmboy wonder, had more contacts and better angles that she did. It infuriated her more than she let on mostly, but this time she wasn't holding back. 

"So, who else are you buddies with, huh? The President? How about some UN members?" 

"Lois," Jimmy consoled. "Come on. Cut it out." 

"No, Jimmy, I want to know." She looked back at him. "Who else? The whole Palestinian government? Good ole Gorbachov?" 

He was finished packing. His plane was at one and he'd be in Gotham by three-thirty. 

"Fine!" Lois grabbed her purse and stomped towards his front door. "Some great lead, some amazing place to stay. Don't invite people, only think about yourself. Whatever, Kent. Have a great fucking weekend!" 

She slammed the door leaving Jimmy and him alone. Jimmy turned to him. "I'd stay but she's my ride." 

Clark nodded and pointed to Lois's jacket thrown haphazardly on his couch. "Don't forget that, huh? I don't want her coming back up here feeling like an ass." 

Jimmy laughed. "Is that even possible?" 

He watched Jimmy leave, wondering if it was indeed possible for Lois to feel any sort of embarrassment around him, when there was a loud honk from the street below. He moved the few steps to the sliding door, though habit would have him ignore the familiar sound, and watched as a progression moved through the streets. Three black SUVs, two limos and three more SUVs. 

Again out of curiosity, he used his x-ray vision. Just what he thought. Lead lining. 

It was Lex's assemblage. 

He sighed as he watched the group of vehicles go by. For an instant he could actually feel the distance between them as if it were a physical thing. Hundreds of thousands of perplexing and confusing miles seemed to stand between now and just a few years ago. Not quite years of innocence, but years of possibility. Chance. Sexual tension. And connection. 

Now the road to reaching a time where things between he and Lex could be what it once was seemed unbearably twisted and impossible to trek. 

His hand found the smooth glass of the door, but he didn't feel it. He was too busy trying not to admit to himself that the time to catch up had passed. He didn't want to think that Lex was too far gone to save, too lost to love. 

No one was.   
  
  
  
  
  
  


**To be continued...**


	7. Epilogue

Epilogue 

_…moving all around me/screaming of the ups and downs_   
_pollution manifested in perpetual sound_   
_the wheels go 'round and the sunset creeps past the_   
_street lamps, chain link fence and concrete_   
_a little piece of paper with a picture drawn floats_   
_on down the street till the wind is gone_   
_the memory now is like the picture was then_   
_when the paper's crumpled up and it can't be perfect again…_

"What do you need?" 

"Anything you can give me, for as long as you can give it to me." The dark, raspy voice cracked and Clark watched in surprise as Bruce turned from him, shielding his face from both his new colleague and the city. 

"Bruce," he started. 

"No!" the man hissed, whipping around. "Never while I'm in this suit. I'm not the same person." 

There was a breif silence, uncomfortable and thick until Clark nodded, admitting his understanding. There was more freedom when your face was hidden from the world whether physically or, as Clark's was, mysteriously. It was a freedom to let release parts of yourself that you weren't normally comfortable with. It was also a time where you wanted nothing connected to the more normal parts of your life, wanted whatever simplistic freedoms and everyday hassels you had to stay intact. 

There was more silence as Clark just stood on the edge of the building, unsure where or with what to start first. There was so much fear here in Gotham, so much dark in the light, and death in the shadows. It was something that was going to take a lot of work to fix, or a lot of his heart when he failed. 

Maybe Lois was right, after all. Maybe Gotham was too much for him. He had the feeling that he was going to be eaten alive by the city. 

"It's a lot that I'm asking, I know," Bruce began, his voice clearly weak and distraught. He sounded as if he'd aged years in moments. "But I've lived in Gotham all my life, and… I've never seen times worse. I've got no help here. The police are just toys in this sick charade." 

Boy did that sound familiar. "The police never know what to do when the're up against the supernatural." 

Bruce mulled on that a moment. "The Joker isn't my only problem, but he's there. He's behind at least a third of the criminal proceedings in this city, I know, but there's someone else. A lot of someone elses. And they're tearing my city to pieces." 

Clark stood in silence, respecting what had to be a difficult admission of need from Wayne. After all, Batman had never needed anyone. 

"Christ, I'm-" He broke off and breathed in, turning to Clark and ripping his mask off. "As much as I hate to admit it when I see what you are, I'm only human, Clark, and I can't do everything. I can't fly, can't withstand bullets. I've got scars and poorly mended bones and torn ligaments. And I don't have minions or sidekicks or coworkers. This was my game and I wasn't… am not going to pull anyone else into it." 

His burning eyes looked Clark over quickly. "Not unless they've chosen this path already, and can handle their own." 

"I can assure you, you won't have to follow me around. No eggshells to walk on around me." 

He nodded. "That's why I went to Metropolis and found you. Practically begged you." 

If that was Bruce's idea of begging… 

"I need your help before this goes too far. The criminal syndicate is already too strong. The citizens of the city pretty much believe I'm on their side now, but… I'm not the first one they think of when being attacked. They think they're going to lose. And I have to stop that. The innocent cannot be prisoners in their own city." 

Clark turned to scan the horizon, hearing a scream. Not for help, like in Metropolis, but just a scream of fear, pain and resignation. 

"We, Bruce. _We_ have to stop it." 

He took off into the city.   
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Forgotten - FIN**

**To be continued...**


End file.
